The Vanishing Act
by MagicalArchives
Summary: The reconnaissance mission required something only he could do; vanishing from the world's eye without a trace. Well, that wasn't very hard considering no one noticed him anyway. Besides, going to a school for magic could be fun, right? Funny thing though; only when something is missing do people realize they care. (T for saftey, I do not own the cover image.)
1. Prologue

England was worried. And things that worried him must be dealt with. But how?

The emerald-eyed nation paced his study, unable to sit still with this dilemma at hand. He could feel it, deep in his bones that something big was about to happen within his country. At nights, he had even been having dreams about the future. Well, they were nightmares more like, since they held great tragedy. He would wake up in the middle of the night, his face wet with tears he hadn't realized he had shed.

And the worst part was that he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember the warnings his dreams allotted him. And yet, he knew if he did not do something about them, he would be hurt.

The first time he had these kinds of dreams was a month before the American Revolution.

He blanched at the thought, feeling sick. He needed to keep his focus on the matter at hand; there was no use fretting about the past.

His dreams. He couldn't remember them in detail, but he knew the gist of them. Something dark was growing within him, within the magical side of him. And it was going to infect all of him, like a virus with no cure. He had an inkling he knew what was going to happen, but he sincerely hoped it was just his mind jumping to the worst conclusions. Even so, he had to do something.

He vaguely remembered one detail about the dreams. A castle. He knew this castle. He loved this castle, for it was the beacon that honed all the magic within England; A school that taught the youth of his country the way of the magical arts. London may be the heart of England, but Hogwarts was just as dear, precious, and vital. The magical world was perhaps his favourite, though he hadn't been in touch with the place for centuries.

But even so, if something bad was coming to the castle, he wanted to do something to protect it. But what could he do?

His first option would have been to go down there himself, perhaps take up a teaching post, watch over the school and give it the best possible protection he could; the power of a nation. But he couldn't just leave his Muggle duties. He couldn't just skip out on world meetings, even if they were rarely productive. The others would know he was missing, and ask questions, and intrude on his personal matters.

The second option was to send someone else down there to be his eyes and ears. But who could he ask? Sure, he had a few witch and wizard friends, but they didn't know he 'knew' they were witches or wizards. To them, he was just a friendly, cunning Muggle boy. He grimaced as he shot a glare at a nearby mirror. Sure, he was very young looking considering he was as old as the nation of England itself (himself, since he and the nation were one and the same), but he didn't look like a mere child. At least, he didn't believe so. Early twenties, maybe, but surely not young enough to be called a boy.

His thoughts ran away again. Back on task. He couldn't just ask a random Hogwarts student to perform the task either. Kids at that age...not all of them could handle such a huge responsibility.

England sighed, running a hand through his scruffy blond hair in thought. He was at a loss. He couldn't go himself, and he couldn't think of anyone to ask to go in his stead. Who could he trust to even go in his place anyway? Who could handle such a delicate manner without blowing their cover? And also, who on Earth could manage vanishing for half the year without anyone noticing their disappearance?

England slapped the hand that had just been ruffling his hair to his face. How could he have been so stupid? The answer had been so obvious. No one would know he was missing. All of them overlooked him. Even he overlooked him most days, forgetting that he was indeed his own country now. No one would notice his absence at the world meetings either. He could do magic too, though perhaps he was unaware of it. And to top it off, England knew he could trust the lad with such a delicate task without his worries being made a mockery.

Elated, a newfound source of hope flooding his chest, he raced around to his desk, plopping in the chair and reaching for the desk phone in one fluid motion. He even remembered the correct phone number as he dialed. After a few rings, a soft voice on the other side answered with a timid, "Hello?"

"Hello, this is England. I was wondering if I could ask a favour."

"O-oh. I'm sorry England, you must have gotten the wrong number, I'm not Amer-"

But England cut him off, a sad smile on his lips.

"No Canada, I have the right number."

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**AN: This story started out as a drabble, written because I hit a writer's block with an original story I've been working on. As such, I'm still not completely sure where I am going with it, so the title is prone to change. I intend to work on this story along side my other one, alternating between the two depending on the inspiration spurts.**

**A special thanks to my bestest friend in the whole world, Nihon, for being my editor and spell check lady. ~Maple.**


	2. The Favour

Amethyst eyes gazed upon the outside of England's cottage. It had been so long since he'd last been here. The pale stone gleamed in the sunlight, just as he remembered it. The only real change he could point out was the rose vine that crept up and consumed half of the house. The effect was charming however, and he couldn't imagine England living in anything less.

He walked up the beaten path to the front door, tugging nervously at the sleeves of the pale blue dress shirt he had decided to wear for the strange occasion. It wasn't often that England remembered who he was. It was rare for England to admit he 'needed' anything from any of the other nations. And it was downright unheard of for the man himself to ask for personal favours.

It was perhaps this last fact that made Canada so anxious to meet with England. Whatever he needed, it must be very serious. Kumajiro shifted slightly from his perch on the nation's shoulders. He was napping, using the blond's head as a personal pillow. Canada smiled slightly; at least he wasn't completely alone in facing this.

He reached the front door too soon for his liking. He stood there, frozen, unable to bring himself to ring the doorbell. Luckily, he didn't need to. A few moments later, the door opened, and there stood England.

"Ah! Canada! Please, do come in. I'm glad you made it here in one piece."

Canada smiled, still surprised England knew who he was for a change. "The trip wasn't all that bad", he replied, his voice soft as ever.

England led him into the house. Very little had changed since Canada's had last been there. The inner walls were still the same pastel colours, littered with pictures of various influential people of the age; more pictures had been added since the last time he'd roamed these halls. He followed England to an upstairs room. Now this…this was different. It was England's personal office, a room he hadn't been allowed into when he was a mere colony.

The bright peach walls were lined with bookcases and more picture frames, all brightly lit by the sunlight flowing in from a large window. A desk stood adjacent to the window; it was there that England headed. Canada made to sit down at the chair in front of the desk, but his attention was caught by something in his peripheral vision.

The pictures littering these walls were different from the professional ones donning the halls. Where the others detailed England's great historical figures, these photos were of the nations. One was of the Nordic five sitting around a table laughing. There was a photo of Greece and Turkey in the middle of an argument, one of a smiling Seychelles, and another of Austria playing his piano with Hungary threatening Prussia with a frying pan in the distance. Spain was smiling for the camera in another, while South Italy crossed his arms and angrily pouted. In one particular picture, Russia sat with his sisters and the Baltic States, being sure to keep at least a 'huge tract of land' named Ukraine in between himself and Belarus. France was being, well, France, in another photo, showing off for a group of ladies. There was China and his family sat together for a picnic, and the last one, North Italy sat surprised at a table with a birthday cake in front of him, his eyes open for a change while Germany and Japan stood on either side smiling.

What really amazed Canada about these photographs were the fact that they were moving. Each picture depicted the captured moment, replaying the scene for only a few brief moments. It seemed as if the nations depicted were alive inside the frames.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

Canada finally managed to pull his eyes away from the moving pictures. Carefully lifting the still sleeping Kumajiro from his head, he sat down in the chair in front of England's desk, settling the bear onto his lap. He made himself look England in the eyes, though his gaze occasionally drifted back to the moving pictures. He could see more of them on the nation's desk; one in particular. A picture of England and France sitting in the middle of a field, watching a younger America running after a rabbit, and himself, riding Kumajiro chasing them. Who had taken that picture again? Oh right, Finland and Sweden had been there that day too.

"If you agree to the favour I want to ask of you, you can learn how to make them do that."

Canada blushed, having been caught once again being distracted by the moving pictures. England didn't seem to mind though, for he too took a moment to stare fondly at the photo on his desk. "And, in case you were wondering, I keep these pictures in here to remind me."

"Remind you?" Canada asked, unable to keep himself from taking another quick glance at the hanging frames.

"Remind me that, despite all of us being the embodiments of a nation, we're also human. We live, laugh, and love...we are not just a country, we are also our own person."

England sighed, resting his elbows on the desk and interlocking his fingers. Canada met his eyes once more, and he couldn't help but realize how tired England looked.

"Have you been sleeping well?", he asked, before he could stop himself.

England didn't seem to mind the sudden question however, for he let out a light chuckle. "No...no, I dare say I haven't been. Actually, it's one of the reasons I asked you to meet me today."

They both sat up a little straighter. Down to business.

"What I'm about to ask of you is a very important matter to me. You're the only one I can possibly ask to do this task, and the only one I can trust with such a delicate mission." England started, never breaking eye contact. "As such, I would like to ask that everything from this moment forward remain strictly between the two of us, and you'll tell no one about this regardless if you accept or decline."

"I promise not to say a word." Canada agreed, and then added in a soft whisper, "I doubt anyone would pay attention to me long enough to hear anything I had to say anyway..."

England didn't hear the whisper, since Canada's regular speaking voice was already soft as it was. "Thank you. Now, on to business, and I must stress to you that this is no laughing matter." he paused until he received a nod from the nation. "For the past few weeks, I've been having night terrors." he winced, but Canada wasn't one to laugh at others for admitting weaknesses, so he continued. "But they're not...normal...dreams. There's something different about them. I'd explain it to you, but it's impossible to put into words. But before when I've had night terrors like these, it was a month before America started his revolu-" he cut off, suddenly having a violent coughing fit. Canada jumped forward a bit, a hand reaching out to grasp England's shoulder in worry, but the emerald-eyed nation waved it off, breathing heavily.

"Sorry about that...whenever that particular subject comes up, I get ill. It's strange, but not abnormal. Sorry to startle you." he cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "But yes...'that' happened. And...you may remember the second time I've had these. You still visited me often then, sometimes staying over. I'm sure you must have heard them." Canada nodded slowly. Indeed, he had tried to forget those screams that had so often torn through the usual silence of night, or the way England had looked so pale. Once he had even asked England about it, but the nation had told him it was something he didn't need worry himself with. One year after England had seemingly recovered, Canada had gained full independence. "So these dreams, they're more like warnings of bad things to come. Premonitions, I dare say." England finished.

Canada hugged Kumajiro a little tighter, his eyes wide with worry. "So something is going to happen to your country?"

England hesitated, momentarily surprised by Canada's genuine concern for his well-being. It was times like this that he regretted not spending more time with the lad when he had the chance. "Er...yes, I believe so. The thing is, I can't remember all of what these dreams tell me. But I do recall a castle; a school of magic here in Great Britain. " Once again, Canada didn't laugh at him. "I just know that something is about to happen at the school. And this...this is where I'd like to ask that favour of you."

After a breath of air, he continued.

"I would appreciate it if you would attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a student this year. Blend in, stay in contact with me, and let me know if you notice anything strange. To do this, you'd have to go undercover as an eleven-year-old first year, and keep your status as a country a secret. The school year starts the first of September, and ends the third week of June. I would of course provide you with anything you need for the school year including school supplies and a pet, if you so wish for one. And-"

But now, now Canada interrupted. "H-hold on!" he stuttered, obviously flabbergasted. His eyes were still wide, and now his face was flushed as he attempted to remember how to speak. After a moment of a gaping, he managed. "England, I'm- I can't pass for an eleven-year old. I can't do magic. And that school term is for over half a year, I can't just leave my work and what about world meet-" but England held up a hand, effectively ending Canada's nervous rant.

"Canada, I know a lot of magic- a lot of old magic. I can easily turn you into a little kid again. And you 'do' have magical ability. You were once one of my colonies after all. As for your work, I wouldn't mind covering for you. As for world meetings..." he drifted off. He didn't need to say anymore. He could see the sad look of realization on the younger's face.

"No one would notice if I didn't show up...they never notice when I'm there anyway..." Canada spoke out loud, his voice fragile.

England dearly wished he could comfort him, but he couldn't find any words. The awkward silence was broken however, by the small polar bear in Canada's lap. Having awoken sometime prior without either of the nations noticing, he stretched a paw up to his owner's cheek, giving him an assuring pat. "I'm an amazing polar bear. If England can make you a kid, he can make me look like you too. I can fill in for you Canada."

Canada smiled at the bear, a warm affection for the creature engulfing him as he hugged his little friend. "You would do that for me Kumajiro?" he asked, stunned and flattered. England grinned at them both as the adorable scene played out before him. It was rare that Kumajiro would ever pay attention to his surroundings. Even rarer when both of them remembered each other's names correctly. It truly was a beautiful moment, and England couldn't bring himself to break the sudden happiness.

After one last long, meaningful hug to his bear companion, Canada turned his attention back to England. "Just one more question though. Why me? Surely there are others who'd be better for this mission, eh? What about America? Or, I don't know, Sealand? You wouldn't even have had to turn him into a kid."

England shook his head. "You were the only one I could ask. America refuses to believe in this magic-mumbo-jumbo. And besides, he's terrified of ghosts, and the school is full of them. He'd probably blow his cover within the first few days of being there. And Sealand can be just as loud as America, and he's annoying, and I refuse to ever be indebted to that little brat!" England looked like he was about to strangle something before he coughed and continued. "Both would have laughed at me anyway, for worrying over night terrors and thinking them to be warning signs. But you, Canada, you haven't laughed at me once since we've been here. Not once. You heard me out, even if I'm sure to you it sounded ridiculous." at this, a little bit of colour flooded to his cheeks. "Thank you."

Canada smiled lightly. "I couldn't laugh at you England. Yes, it may seem odd to me, but it's obviously very real to you to be so anxious about it." he paused, thinking things over. The whole thing still sounded crazy to him. Magic...he knew it was real, England was adept at it. But could he really learn too? Going to a school for it might be fun as well. Kumajiro squirmed a bit, turning to look up at his owner. Canada met the gaze and nodded to the bear. "Ok. I'll do it. But not as a favour to England."

When he looked back up, England was astonished to see the look of fixed determination on his ex-colony's face. Canada smiled wider. "It's just like you said, isn't it?" he gestured around to the moving pictures. "We're not just countries, we're also people. So I'll do this for you. Not as a nation doing another a favour, but as a friend helping out a friend." The firm look suddenly faultered, his usual timid demeanor returning. "I-is that ok, A-Arthur?"

He tried not to tear up. He really did. But the sheer feeling of relief and gratitude were too much for him. "Of course, Matthew."

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**Fun Facts:**

**1763**, Canada was under Britsh rule.

The American Revolutionary War (**1775–1783**)

**1867**, Canada become a country but under the British dominion.

The event known as the First Wizarding War was a major conflict with foundations as early as the 1940s, but officially beginning in **1970** and ending abruptly in **1981**. It marked the original "reign" of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

**1982**, The Canada Act, Canada became independent.

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**AN: Maple here! It's been so much fun working on this fanfic already, and it's only just begun. My original story has come to a somewhat standstill, yet this one seems to flow out rather easily.**

**Thank you so much for everyone who has already reviewed, favourited, and followed. I had no idea how much of an inspirational push that would provide.**

**Another thanks goes out to my wonderful editor Nihon. Without her brilliant brain and sense of humor, I doubt I could have made even this far. It's completely worth sifting through your editor notes to figure out which ones are legit and which ones were added just to make me laugh.**

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**(Rated T for language and suggestive content)  
Nihon's added scene, later laughed at and then removed by Maple:**

England shook his head. "You were the only one I could ask. America refuses to believe in this magic-mumbo-jumbo. And besides, he's terrified of ghosts, and the school is full of them. He'd probably blow his cover within the first few days of being there. And Sealand can be just as loud as America, and he's annoying, and I refuse to ever be indebted to that little brat!" England looked like he was about to strangle something before he coughed and continued. "Both would have laughed at me anyway, for worrying over night terrors and thinking them to be warning signs. But you, Canada, you haven't laughed at me once since we've been here. Not once. You heard me out, even if I'm sure to you it sounded ridiculous." at this, a little bit of colour flooded to his cheeks. "Thank you." And then England bent him over the table and fucked him in the ass. Maple syrup went everywhere. The end.


End file.
